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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27697582">The Lord of Harrenhal</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyrawinter/pseuds/lyrawinter'>lyrawinter</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Lord of Harrenhal [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Game of Thrones (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Victorian, F/M, Gothic Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Spooky</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 03:27:23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>12,851</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27697582</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyrawinter/pseuds/lyrawinter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sansa has been living in an orphanage since her family died. When she comes of age, she receives a letter from Lord Baelish.</p><p> </p><p>  <b>First part of a series</b></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Petyr Baelish/Sansa Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Lord of Harrenhal [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2025607</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>35</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/petyrbaealish/gifts">petyrbaealish</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I started writing this fic in September as a birthday gift for my friend petyrbaealish. I wasn't sure about posting this but she encouraged me to do so. I want to take this moment to thank her for being always so supportive and for helping me improve my English.</p><p>This has an open ending because it's the first part of a series. This structure (writing several parts instead of a novel) is easier for me. Like in my previous fics, I want to give them a happy ending. </p><p>I don't know when I'll be able to write the second part, but I hope you enjoy this one. Thanks for reading! :-)</p><p>These are some songs I listened to while writing this fic:</p><p><i>Across the sea</i> by Kalandra.</p><p><i>Fivefold</i> by Agnes Obel.</p><p><i>Le bal des chats</i> by Cécile Corbel.</p><p><i>Blue Blood</i> by Laurel.</p><p><i>The Witcher's Daughter</i> by Ashley Serena.</p><p><i>To Death We Dance</i> by Peter Gundry.</p><p> </p><p>English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sansa had never celebrated her birthday since she lived in the orphanage.</p>
<p>The Queen’s Institution for Helpless Girls was an orphanage financed by the government. A home for girls who had no relatives or friends. A refuge among the chaos and depravity that plagues the country, the door hanger read. Queen Cersei had founded it shortly after she began her reign. She’d affirmed she would make the safety of young girls one of her top priorities. </p>
<p>On the outside, the orphanage looked indeed like a refuge. The building was painted in beige, the windows sparkled, and the front garden was one of the most breathtaking in King’s Landing, with all kinds of exotic flowers and bushes clipped in animal shapes. The orphanage looked like a palace, and anyone who hadn’t heard of the place or Cersei before would expect the inside would match the outside.</p>
<p>Unfortunately, Cersei was also known as the Heartless Queen among her subjects. She ruled alone. King Robert had died of fever over a decade ago.</p>
<p>Of course no one dared to say the nickname in her presence, but Sansa was sure it had reached her ears. The Queen had spies everywhere. You never knew who could be passing information along to her. And Sansa knew what it was like to live in the Queen’s Institution for Helpless Girls because she’d been living there since her family was murdered.</p>
<p>Her father, Ned Stark had been declared a traitor and sentenced to death, and her mother and siblings had been poisoned two months later during a feast to celebrate the bethotral between Roslin Frey and Edmure Tully. Sansa couldn’t attend because two weeks prior to the feast she’d received a letter from the Queen asking her to sew a dress for Princess Myrcella and carry it to the palace that day. The request seemed odd. Why would the Queen want the daughter of a traitor to make a dress for her only daughter, who would inherit the throne if Joffrey died?</p>
<p>The idea of meeting him again made Sansa feel sick to her stomach.</p>
<p>Before her father was declared a traitor, the Starks had been a family of the highest respectability. They were invited to all the dinner parties hosted by the aristocratic families and they were also invited to the royal parties at the palace. Sansa had danced with Prince Joffrey several times. At some point she’d even believed that he was interested in her, and oh gods this made her feel terribly stupid but she’d even pictured herself ruling the kingdom by his side.</p>
<p>She’d heard once that dreams were painted in gold, but they turned into ashes when we woke up, and she couldn’t have come up with a better way to describe how her world had been turned upside down. One morning she was a girl living in a mansion with her family and attending the most exclusive parties, and the next they suddenly stopped receiving social calls and people averted their eyes from them and quickened their pace when they ran into them on the street or inside a store. The Queen had taken their money away, saying Ned Stark had gained it fraudulently. She’d also taken ownership of their mansion, though she’d allowed them to continue living there for the sake of the children; those had been her exact words.</p>
<p>It had been a surprise to receive a letter from Edmure Tully inviting them to the feast. Edmure hadn’t contacted them since Ned was imprisoned. Catelyn had come to believe her brother had turned his back on them too. Sansa still could see her mother’s face as she reread the letter, the way her eyes had moistened; the relief in her voice when she’d said: <i>I knew we still could count on Edmure.</i> His letter had shown them that he still considered them his family. They all had been certain that Edmure would also invite them to the wedding.</p>
<p>But the wedding would never happen: all the people who had attended the feast were dead. No one knew who had poisoned them, but Sansa suspected the Queen was involved and that she hadn’t wanted Sansa to suffer the same destiny as her family. But why? Did Cersei have plans for her? Sansa wasn’t sure if she wanted to know the answer.</p>
<p>She had received the news at the castle. The Queen had insisted that she stayed the night. <i>It isn’t safe to return home after sunset, dear,</i> she’d said, and there had been something in the way her lips had curled that made Sansa shudder.</p>
<p>So she’d stayed the night, and the morning after the Queen herself had shown up in her bedroom while Sansa was still asleep and had touched her arm.</p>
<p>Sansa had nearly jumped in her bed. Strange dreams had plagued her all night; confusing images that she couldn’t remember. She just wanted to go back home and never see Cersei and Joffrey again. </p>
<p>I’m afraid I have bad news, little dove. The Queen had handed her a letter. She’d stayed as Sansa read it over and over again, her mind screaming that this couldn’t be true, that this must be a nightmare. </p>
<p>When she lifted her gaze, she couldn’t see Cersei’s face clearly, but she heard her voice:</p>
<p><i>You’re now an orphan. Your name, your belongings, all of that belongs in the past. Now you are a common girl with no great expectations in life. When you become of age, you’ll need to work to survive. No middle-class or upper-class men will be interested in you. Who would want to marry the daughter of a traitor? A girl with no lands, no money; a girl who comes from a disgraced family. I’ll tell you, child: No one will ever want to be associated with you.</i> </p>
<p>She’d paused then, and what looked like a merciful smile had spread across her face, but Sansa knew better. The Queen couldn’t show compassion or kindness. Her tone sounded sickeningly sweet when she went on:</p>
<p>
  <i>But until then, you have nothing to worry about, my dear. Today, you’ll go to live in the Queen’s Institution for Helpless Girls, the place for girls who have lost everything and everyone. They’ll take care of you. Isn’t that wonderful?</i>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Cersei had visited the orphanage thrice since Sansa lived there. The days prior to her visits were always stressful. The director of the orphanage walked across the entire building, making sure everything was perfectly neat. If he thought the floor or the windows didn’t shine enough, he didn’t hesitate to punish all the orphans. His punishments were varied. Unfortunately all the orphans, even the youngest, had seen themselves what his methods consisted of. He seemed to know what every girl feared most. His punishments were the reason why Sansa was afraid of the darkness.</p><p>But she wouldn’t have to worry about him any longer, she thought as the first sun rays streamed into the room she shared with other fifteen girls.</p><p>It was her birthday. Unlike her previous birthdays at the orphanage, this was a milestone in her life. She’d come of age. Today was the last day she’d spend within these walls. She wouldn’t have to follow the director’s commands anymore; she wouldn’t have to eat watery soup and stirabout (the only meals served at the orphanage) any longer; she wouldn’t have to scrub the floor on her hands and knees for hours, trying to ignore the ache in her back. </p><p>For most girls, their coming of age birthdays were a reason both to hope and to fear. The orphanage wasn’t a welcoming place, but at least they had three meals a day (unless the director used food as a punishment) and a roof under their head. When they came of age, they crossed the threshold and the front door closed behind them forever. Most of them have no one to rely on. It was like opening a bird cage door and leaving the domestic bird to live in the wild. </p><p>But Sansa could count herself lucky. Today she wouldn’t be thrown into the streets.</p><p>A month earlier she’d received a letter. Sansa knew the director had read it because the wax seal was broken. He hadn’t even had the decency to try to seal the envelope again.</p><p>Sansa had never received a letter before and she didn’t know any other orphan who had received a letter, so this was something out of the ordinary.</p><p>Something had caught her eye: the two halves of the wax seal seemed to form a figure. When she’d put them together, she’d discovered the figure of a bird. It was delicate and beautiful, and she’d smiled at the sight of it. She’d wondered who used a bird wax seal stamp to close their envelopes.</p><p>The answer was on the other side of the envelope.</p><p>
  <i>Lord Baelish.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i></i>
</p><p>
  <i></i>
</p><p>
  <i>Harrenhal. North shore of the God’s Eye Lake. Riverlands.</i>
</p><p>Her heart had beat faster when she’d read the return address. It had been years since she’d heard his name.</p><p>She’d pulled out the letter and read it.</p><p> </p><p>
  <i>Dear Lady Stark:</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Forgive me if the first lines of this letter seem abrupt. I confess I stared at this piece of paper before grabbing my dip pen, trying to decide the best way to begin this letter.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>I don’t know what you’ve heard of me. You’ll likely know that I’m the Lord of Harrenhal, the largest castle of Westeros, but perhaps you also know that I was an old friend of your mother’s. It’s in the name of my friendship with Catelyn that I feel compelled to offer you a job.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>I own several books written in the northern language, a language that very few people can speak, as you already know, since you are one of the few with this ability. I’d like you to translate them. We shall discuss the details when you come here. I hope you may forgive me for not including a salary offer in this letter, but I’d also like to discuss that matter in person. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>Catelyn wouldn’t want her daughter to wander the streets. There are many horrors out there, and I don’t wish for you to encounter them. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>I hope you can accept my offer. You’d be safe in my home. Harrenhal was built to protect its dwellers from any threats. No harm will come to you in this place. You have my word.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>You don’t need to send a reply. On your birthday, I’ll send five carriages with two guards in each one. If you accept the job, you just have to get in the carriage surrounded by the other four. If not, you just have to dismiss them. Whatever you choose, know that I’m your friend and that I’ll do everything in my power to grant your wishes from now on. I’ve already spoken to the Queen, and she didn’t object, so the decision is yours to make, though I won’t lie: I have hope that I’ll see you getting out of the carriage in a few weeks.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Sincerely yours</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Lord Baelish.</i>
</p><p> </p><p>Sansa knew very little about him. She knew that her grandfather had fostered him at Riverrun, so Lord Baelish had grown up with her mother, her aunt and her uncle, but he’d left Riverrun after having a pistol duel with Brandon Stark.</p><p>Her mother had never told her why Lord Baelish and Brandon had fought, but she’d told her that Brandon shot him in his chest before Lord Baelish could even aim his pistol at him. Catelyn had also mentioned that it was Lord Baelish who challenged Brandon.</p><p>Pistol duels were fought to restore one’s honor. Why did Lord Baelish think that his honor had been besmirched? Whatever Brandon had done, Lord Baelish must have taken it as an affront to him. He’d never returned to Riverrun and he’d never met Sansa or her siblings. So why was he offering her his help? He’d even asked the Queen for her permission. Cersei might have forbidden him to offer Sansa this job. She might have accused him of siding with the daughter of a traitor. Lord Baelish had risked losing Harrenhal.</p><p>The Queen had given him the castle and the surrounding lands three years ago as a reward for his discoveries in the field of biology. He might have also become a sir, like many other men who accomplished an extraordinary task, but she hadn’t given him a nobility title. Sansa found it strange, though admittedly she didn’t know what he’d discovered. Only Cersei knew.</p><p>That he was a very wealthy man was known to all, however. He didn’t need to work for a living. Still Sansa was surprised that he was going to send ten guards to escort her. She knew the only way to reach Harrenhal was to take the road crossing the King Harren Forest, a forest that was said to be haunted. According to the legends, many dangerous creatures lived there. Some people have affirmed that they'd seen them. Sansa didn't know what to believe. The woman that worked as a cook in the orphanage was fascinated by the supernatural and was subscribed to a monthly magazine about ghosts, mediums and such. One of the chores the girls had to do was to help her clean the kitchen and do the dishes, and the woman always took the opportunity to talk about the last articles she'd read and to show them some of the pictures the magazine included. The woman was kind, and talking with her was a much needed distraction for Sansa. There was a popular illusionist, one that apparently could do real magic, and the cook loved talking about his prodigies. She always blushed when she talked about him and said that she'd love to meet him in person. She also said that she'd love to witness a supernatural phenomena, that it must be so exciting. Sansa hadn't told her but she didn't agree. Witnessing a supernatural phenomena mustn't be exciting but terrifying. When she was a child Sansa loved reading spooky legends (some of them had kept her awake at night), but it was one thing to read about something supernatural and a different thing to experience it firsthand. </p><p>Sansa had learned about the creatures that lived in the King Harren Forest from a book in Winterfell.</p><p>Her father had been a bibliophile, and he'd turned one of the rooms of the mansion into a library when Robb was a baby. He'd owned thousands of books about different topics: Philosophy, History, Art, Rhetoric, Legends… Sansa had spent many afternoons in that room, sitting in an armchair by the fireplace, as her father worked at his desk near the window. Unlike her siblings, Sansa had been a passionate reader as far back as she could remember. She felt a knot in her throat every time she wondered where those books had ended up. She’d been unable to keep any of them. She would have asked Cersei to let her bring some books with her if she'd held out any hope that the Queen would have agreed. Books had always played an important part in her childhood. They’d brought her comfort when she needed it and made her dream of worlds where everything was possible.</p><p>It had been so long since the last time she’d held a book in her hands… and now Lord Baelish offered her the possibility to work with books. It seemed too good to be true.</p><p>She wondered why he’d offered her this job. Did he really need someone to translate those books or was it purely an act of kindness? Perhaps he just wanted to help her and had chosen the job that he thought suited her best. Surely he didn’t need those books for his investigations. Now that she thought about it she didn’t even know if he’d continued his investigations after moving to the castle.</p><p>Before he was given Harrenhal, Lord Baelish had worked at the Natural Science Institute in King’s Landing. John Arryn (Lysa’s husband) was the director. It was no secret for Sansa that Lysa had helped him to get the job and that she’d met him several times since he left Riverrun. It was something Lysa had proudly repeated during family reunions.</p><p> </p><p>*</p><p>Sansa's only belongings were an old shawl, two grey dresses, two nightgowns, a pair of shoes, some underclothes, a hair brush and a toothbrush. The Queen had taken the rest off her. She'd told Sansa that she needed to get used to living without luxuries.</p><p>The door opened when she was packing. Sansa wasn't expecting anyone to enter the room at this hour. The other girls were supposed to be doing chores. She thought that perhaps it was Jeyne, her best friend. She'd told Sansa that she'd try to sneak out to speak to her alone one last time before Sansa left. Jeyne would still have to spend three months more in the orphanage since she came of age in December. They'd promised themselves they'd find the way to meet again once Jeyne left.</p><p>The girl standing by the door wasn't Jeyne. Sansa tried to hide her disappointment. She was one of the youngest girls in the orphanage; Sansa had only spoken to her a few times. </p><p>“The Queen is here!" the girl exclaimed and paused, trying to catch her breath. She must have run up the stairs. "She wants to see you. She’s in the golden room."</p><p>“The Queen?” Sansa’s heart quickened. Why was Cersei here? She reached into her pocket and touched Lord Baelish’s letter. Was she here to tell Sansa that she’d changed her mind and wasn’t going to let her go to Harrenhal? Had the Queen been playing with her, allowing her to dream of a home? Was she here to see Sansa’s face when the realization that her dreams had been crushed hit her?</p><p>Cersei was cruel like that. Sansa felt a lump in her throat and clutched the letter to her leg. </p><p>She rushed into the corridor and ran down the stairs. Her chest hurt when she knocked on the door.</p><p>“Come in.” She heard Cersei’s voice on the other side.</p><p>The golden room was the Queen’s private room. She was the only one that had the key. Cersei had never slept in the orphanage but she used this room for both personal and professional meetings. Sansa had never entered here. Admittedly she was curious about this place, but the idea of being alone with Cersei made her feel sick to her stomach. The last time she'd been alone with the Queen was the morning she'd learned her family was dead. Her mind wandered to that morning. Her knuckles went white when she grabbed the door handle. Stop, she told herself. Focus. She wasn't a child anymore. She needed to be strong.</p><p>Taking a deep breath, she stepped inside.</p><p>The room looked like a mix of an office and a drawing room. Cersei was standing beside a large painting of a stormy sea, dressed in black. She looked taller than she really was. She looked dangerous even though there were no visible weapons around her body, although she might be hiding a dagger under her dress, Sansa thought as she stared at her. She didn't want to come any closer. Cersei didn't look dangerous; she was dangerous, Sansa corrected herself. She was the most powerful woman in Westeros and she didn’t hesitate to use her power to get what she wanted.</p><p>“Little dove.” She smiled at Sansa and approached her. “Please, take a seat.” She motioned to two armchairs in a corner. </p><p>Sansa swallowed, trying not to look intimidated. She breathed slowly before sitting on the armchair and resisted the urge to clasp her hands on her lap. </p><p>Cersei smiled again and sat down too, her movements slow and elegant. It was like watching a snake seconds prior to their attack. Sansa braced herself for the bad news. Now the Queen would tell her that she’d been joking, that she would never allow her to live in Harrenhal; that Sansa would have to find a job as a factory worker or as a housemaid.</p><p>Surprisingly, Cersei said nothing of the kind:</p><p>“I confess Lord Baelish’s request didn’t come as a surprise, little dove. He seems to have a thing for the Tully women. Your mother, your aunt, and now you.”</p><p>Sansa furrowed her brow. What? What did she mean?</p><p>Cersei laughed when she saw her expression. </p><p>“You didn’t know? Oh, this will be funnier than I expected.” She leaned forward and added in a light-hearted tone: “Lord Baelish was in love with your mother. That was the reason why he challenged Brandon to a duel! And he was Lysa’s lover for several years. How did you think he’d gotten the job at the Natural Science Institute? I bet he’d have tried to have you all for himself earlier if you weren’t living here. Be thankful that I sent you here when your family died or else you would have been warming his bed for years now.” A smile spread across her face, as awful as her words. She continued: “However, you are now of age, little dove. I’m afraid I can’t protect you any longer. You’re free to go to Harrenhal and be Lord Baelish’s mistress if you want. The carriages must be about to come... I wish you good luck.”</p><p>“What? No… I… This…” Sansa swallowed. This couldn’t be what Lord Baelish expected from her at all. He wanted her to translate some books. This was what he said in his letter.</p><p>“Oh, little dove. Are you really this naive?” Cersei seemed to read her thoughts. “That job was a ploy to lure you into his castle. But as soon as you arrive, he’ll let you know his other requirements.” The Queen said the last part in an amused tone. “I bet he won’t even expect for you to settle in. Tonight you’ll be opening your legs for him… unless you don’t want him to be your friend.”</p><p>So Cersei knew what the letter said. The director must have probably told her. Sansa clutched her dress tightly, feeling as if she were about to faint. No, this couldn’t be true. Lord Baelish had grown up with her mother. He must have cared for her. If Cersei had spoken the truth, Lord Baelish had been in love with Catelyn. Her death couldn’t have made him feel indifferent, Sansa refused to believe that. He must have felt something tugging at his chest. Something, no matter how small. The duel mustn't have turned him into a cold-hearted person. Lord Baelish surely hadn’t wanted Catelyn to suffer, and he couldn’t want Sansa to suffer either, let alone at his own hands.</p><p>He couldn’t coerce her into sharing his bed, could he? The doubts filled her mind. The truth was that she didn’t know him. What if Cersei was right? What if the job was just an excuse? What if his real intentions were to make her his mistress? </p><p>“Well, little dove. I’d love to keep chatting, but there are some pressing matters that require my attention.” The Queen rose from her seat.</p><p>Sansa watched her smile, wondering if she was really lucky.</p><p>Wondering if living in Harrenhal would be a blessing of a curse.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>If there weren’t two guards traveling with her, Sansa would have reread Lord Baelish’s letter in the carriage. The Queen’s poisonous words still echoed in her mind. Sansa wanted to draw comfort from Lord Baelish’s letter. She needed his words to make Cersei’s lose the weight they carried.</p><p>However, a part of her felt relieved that she wasn’t traveling alone. The two guards seemed friendly. Their names were Brendan and Tom. They told her that Lord Baelish had hired all of them shortly after moving to the castle.</p><p>“How is Harrenhal?” Sansa asked them. She didn’t know much about the castle. She knew it had been built on the orders of King Harren in the middle ages and had burned down some years later. King Harren and the other people who lived in the castle had died in the fire, or at least, no survivors were found. The causes of the fire remained a mystery. An ancestor of King Robert Baratheon had conquered the area and declared the castle was now his, but surprisingly he didn’t order the reconstruction nor did he move in. The castle was rebuilt in the eighteenth century but it remained uninhabited. </p><p>Lord Baelish had been the first to live in Harrenhal since the fire. </p><p>“The castle is huge, my lady,” Brendan said. “It has five towers though the door to the Tower of Ghosts was bricked up after the reconstruction, and Lord Baelish has never demolished the wall.”</p><p>Sansa shivered. It was only a rumor but it was said that the fire had started in that tower.</p><p>Tom glanced at Brendan as if asking him a silent question and Brendan hurried to shake his head.</p><p>“What’s wrong?” Sansa hurried to ask.</p><p>“It’s nothing, my lady,” Brendan said.</p><p>It was clear that he was lying.</p><p>“Please,” Sansa said. “Tell me.”</p><p>Brendan exchanged a look with Tom before looking back at her. He seemed conflicted.</p><p>“Lord Baelish asked us not to tell you about the rumors, my lady,” he began.</p><p>Sansa didn’t like how that sounded. Rumors?</p><p>“What rumors?”</p><p>“It’s just malicious rumors the population of Harroway invented when Lord Baelish moved to the castle, my lady,” Tom said. </p><p>Harroway was the nearest town from Harrenhal. It was famous for glass. There were no other towns, cities or villages for miles around.</p><p>Sansa looked at Tom. There was a guilty expression on his face, but she noticed something else too. He also looked worried.</p><p>Was he worried that Lord Baelish would dismiss him for bringing up this topic?</p><p>"I won't tell Lord Baelish," Sansa assured them, looking at the guards alternatively. "I promise."</p><p>Brendan glanced at Tom before letting out a sigh.</p><p>"There's nothing you should trouble yourself about, my lady. The people in Harroway love making up stories. The castle had been uninhabited for over three centuries when Lord Baelish moved in. It sparked interest. I don't know who started it, but one day the rumors that Harrenhal was haunted reached our ears. It was Lady Margaery, a friend of Lord Baelish, who told him during one of her visits. She'd been in the town buying some glass jewelry when she heard those stories." </p><p>Sansa knew who Lady Margaery was. His father was the Duke of Highgarden, Sir Mace Tyrell, but it was no secret that they hadn't spoken to each other since his father learned she'd been secretly working as an artist's model. Sansa was a child when the scandal came to light. A friend of the Duke knew one of the painters she'd posed for; one night the two men had gotten drunk and the painter had told him. The painter had said that it was a secret and no one could know, but the Duke's friend had told Sir Mace. And the Duke hadn’t received the news well.</p><p>He'd forbidden her daughter from posing for painters any longer if she wanted to continue living in the Tyrell Mansion and be his inheritor. He must have thought that would make her come to her senses. Who would refuse a life of luxury? What the Duke didn't know was that Lady Margaery had made a large amount of money. She'd posed for the most prestigious painters, the artists who created paintings that the most wealthy men bought eagerly. So she didn't hesitate. She gathered her belongings and left the mansion.</p><p>She'd lived in the capital for over a decade now, in the most exclusive neighborhood. And of course, she continued posing for painters. </p><p>Sansa had never seen any paintings of her, but she'd heard some of them weren't in living rooms or drawing rooms where visitors, servants and any one else could see them but in private chambers where only the lord of the house could admire them, and perhaps this was the reason why Lady Margaery hadn't been invited to parties since the news that she was an artist's model spread throughout the country. Respectable people didn't want to have anything to do with her. They said she was immoral and they didn’t want her to corrupt their daughters..</p><p>But apparently Lord Baelish didn’t mind that she had a bad reputation. Well Sansa had never seen him in a party, so it seemed he didn’t get invited either. Cersei had said that Lord Baelish had gotten his job at the Natural Science Institute because he was Lysa’s lover. It must be public knowledge if the Queen knew. And Sansa was certain everybody knew about the duel. Lord Baelish mustn’t have a good reputation either, she reasoned. But the reason why he wasn’t invited to parties was that he wasn’t a noble. If Cersei would have given him a noble title, he’d probably receive many calling cards and visiting cards, Sansa was certain. But he could have bought a noble title himself. Many wealthy men had done so in order to hobnob with the upper class of society. Lord Baelish mustn't be interested in that. But he didn’t live a secluded life either There were several guards and probably several servants as well in the castle. Besides, Lady Margaery visited him. Sansa wondered if he received other visitors too.</p><p>But she’d strayed from the topic. They were talking about the rumors that Lord Baelish didn’t want her to hear.</p><p>“Why did they say that Harrenhal is haunted?” Sansa asked the two men.</p><p>Brendan sighed as if he’d expected her to be satisfied with what he’d already told her.</p><p>“They say the ghost of King Harren still lives in the castle and he’s furious because his castle has been occupied. They say there are other ghosts too, the ghosts of the other people that had died in the castle, and that they want to throw Lord Baelish, the servants and us, the guards, out of Harrenhal.”</p><p>“However, you are still in the castle,” Sansa observed.</p><p>Tom grew pale. He looked down at his hands when Sansa tried to make eye contact with him. He was afraid, but why? Sansa looked back at Brendan.</p><p>“Have there been any incidents since you’ve been living in the castle?” she asked the guard.</p><p>“Yes,” Brendan said reluctantly.</p><p>“What kinds of incidents?”</p><p>To her surprise, Tom leaned forward and spoke:</p><p>“It always happens at night my lady. At first it was just subtle things. Footsteps walking past our bedrooms and whispers. We thought it was the wood making cracking noises, and the wind outside. There are many storms in Harrenhal. But as the months passed by, other things began happening. The rocking chairs in our bedrooms began swinging on their own at midnight. I’ve seen shadows out of the corner of my eye, my lady, and I’ve felt as if someone were touching my hair as I lie in bed.”</p><p>“Tom.” Brendand gave him a stern look. “Enough.” He turned his head to Sansa and apologized: “Forgive Tom, my lady. He didn’t mean to scare you.”</p><p>He didn’t mean to scare you. Brendan hadn’t said anything to undermine his credibility. He hadn’t said that Tom had a vivid imagination or that the castle was old and it was normal to hear strange noises. </p><p>“What else has happened since you live in the castle?” she asked them in a gentle tone.</p><p>Brendan tilted his head, his gaze fixed on his hands. Slowly, he began to speak:</p><p>“Things fall off the shelves. One night we heard a bang on the ground floor. We all ran downstairs, Lord Baelish included, and inspected all the rooms. When we entered the living room, we saw all the porcelain figurines had hit the floor and shattered.” Brendan paused, and Sansa saw there was something else.</p><p>“What are you hiding from me?” she asked in the same gentle tone as before.</p><p>“Lord Baelish forbade us from ever mentioning it, my lady,” Tom said. Now he was so pale that it seemed that he was about to faint.</p><p>“Please.” Sansa leaned forward and took his hands. Tom gasped and looked at her, surprised. Sansa knew it wasn’t considered correct to hold hands with a stranger, but she just wanted to soothe him. </p><p>Tom looked at Brendan, silently asking him for permission and the other guard nodded with resignation.</p><p>“Go on. There’s no way Lord Baelish will let us stay after this.”</p><p>“That’s not true,” Sansa said. “I won’t tell him any of this. You have my word.”</p><p>“He’ll guess we have told you everything, my lady. You already look afraid, and we haven’t arrived yet.”</p><p>“He might think I feel intimidated by the castle and that I need time to get used to my new life. Or he might think that the forest scares me. I know the legends.”</p><p>“You don’t have to worry about the forest, my lady,” Brendan said, and there was no hesitation in his voice. </p><p>“What do you mean?”</p><p>“Well… sometimes we’ve distinguished creatures hiding among the trees, but they’ve never come any closer. When we told Lord Baelish he said the sigil of House Harren kept the monsters of the forest at bay.”</p><p>Sansa had noticed the sigil was engraved on every carriage but she hadn’t paid it any mind to it. </p><p>“How does he know that the sigil keeps them at bay?” she asked.</p><p>“i don’t know. He didn’t elaborate further. He just said we didn’t have to be afraid of the forest.”</p><p>It was strange, but if the legends were true and the creatures really existed, perhaps ther sigil was magic somehow and was protecting them. </p><p>Sansa turned to Tom and realized she was still holding his hands. She offered him a smile, and he returned it a bit flushed. </p><p>“Please, tell me about that incident.”</p><p>Tom took a deep breath and looked down at their hands intertwined for a moment before meeting her gaze again.</p><p>“Last Spring, a maid fell down the stairs. We had to call a doctor and he took her to the hospital. When she recovered consciousness, she said someone had pushed her. The police came to Harrenhal and interrogated us, but they couldn’t find any evidence that proved the maid was correct so they didn’t investigate further.”</p><p>“Is the maid still working at the castle?”</p><p>“No, my lady. She said she didn’t want to come back to Harrenhal,” Tom said. “And I don’t blame her.” He casted his eyes down, embarrassed. </p><p>“You’re not a maid. You are a guard and should act like one,” Brendan reprimanded him.</p><p>Tom flashed him an indignant look.</p><p>“I act like a guard! But you have to admit the situation escapes our control! We cannot protect Lord Baelish from supernatural forces!”</p><p>“It’s only rumors! There are no ghosts in Harrenhal!” Brendan exclaimed with exasperation.</p><p>Sansa let go of Tom’s hands and leaned back. The men stopped and looked at her. They seemed ashamed that they’d snapped at each other.</p><p>“I’m sorry, my lady,” Brendan said. His face softened. “Please, believe me. There are no ghosts in Harrenhal. King Harren is not wandering the castle.”</p><p>“Why was the door to the Tower of Ghosts bricked up?” she asked. There must be a reason. Did the King in the eighteenth century think that this tower was cursed, since it seemed that the fire had started there? Or had they found something there, something that had them make the decision to seal that tower?” </p><p>“I don’t know,” Brendan answered. “Nor did Lord Baelish know, so it’s pointless to ask him, my lady.”</p><p>Sansa watched him. Was he trying to prevent her from making a mistake that gave away that she knew about the rumors?</p><p>“Okay,” she said. For now, she wouldn’t ask Lord Baelish any questions concerning the Tower of Ghosts. </p><p>*</p><p>The rest of the journey, they were silent. Sansa looked out of the window and mulled over her conversation with the two guards. Were the rumors true? Was Harrenhal haunted? Lord Baelish had said in his letter that she would be safe in the castle, that no harm would come to her. Was he lying or did he believe there were no ghosts trying to throw them out?</p><p>The sun was hiding when Harrenhal came into view. The lake reflected the sun, shades of orange and red colored the water, and it was as if a dragon were flying over the lake, breathing fire.</p><p>The castle was magnificent. Sansa stared at the towers in awe; it looked as if they were touching the sky which now appeared lilac. </p><p>The carriages skirted the lake and came to a halt in front of the  castle. To her surprise, the front door opened and a man showed up, carrying a candelabra. Sansa watched him. He must be around forty, though she couldn’t be certain from the distance. He was wearing a black cloak, the same color as his hair save for his temples. His temples were gray, and Sansa thought they made him look elegant. As she watched him, Lord Baelish met her eyes, and Sansa felt as if someone had lightly touched the nape of her neck. She shivered and looked away, blushing.</p><p>“My lady.” Brendan’s voice sounded from outside. Sansa blinked and realized she was alone in the carriage. When had Tom and Brendan gotten out? Brendan was holding the door open for her and she hurried to thank him and get out of the carriage. The breeze fluttered her hair. Sansa adjusted her shawl. It only covered her shoulders and her chest, and she tried not to shiver. It was always cold in the orphanage; she wondered if it was also cold inside the castle.</p><p>The man approached them, holding the candelabra in his right hand.</p><p>“Lord Baelish.” Brendan and Tom bowed to him.</p><p>“I trust you had a safe trip,” Lord Baelish said, stopping before them.</p><p>“We did, my lord,” Brendan said.</p><p>Lord Baelish turned to her then, and Sansa’s heart quickened. He studied her face for a moment. Sansa didn’t know if it was the light from the candelabra or if she’d really noticed a flicker in his eyes. The corner of his mouth curved up slightly.</p><p>“Lady Sansa. I cannot express how happy I am that you decided to come.”</p><p>Had he thought she would refuse his offer? Sansa bent her knees and bowed her head.</p><p>“Lord Baelish,” she said, feeling his gaze on her. She resisted the urge to smooth her hands over her grey dress.</p><p>Suddenly she felt out of place. Her shawl was too old, her dress too worn-out. She wondered what Lord Baelish was thinking. Fortunately, his gaze hadn’t traveled along her body but she knew he could see how old her dress was. Though he must know that Cersei had taken all her belongings off her.</p><p>Slowly, she lifted her head to meet his eyes and to her surprise, she saw his smile widen. She watched his face more attentively than before. Now she was certain that the flicker of his eyes wasn’t an optical illusion; it was real.</p><p>“Thank you for offering me this job, Lord Baelish. It was very kind of you,” she said.</p><p>The flicker of his eyes grew more intense.</p><p>“I told you that I was your friend, lady Sansa. You’re safe with me.” </p><p>Sansa needed to believe him. The words Cersei had spoken echoed in her mind and Sansa shook her head, trying to shut them off.</p><p> “Come,” Lord Baelish added, offering her his hand. “It’s getting cold.”</p><p>Sansa turned to Brendan and Tom and gave them a smile. She hoped she’d see them again soon. They returned her smile though they looked nervous. Sansa nodded her head, a silent promise that she wouldn’t tell Lord Baelish about their conversation in the carriage.</p><p>Then, she took Lord Baelish’s arm and followed him into the castle.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was cold inside. Sansa wasn’t surprised; it must be hard to keep the castle warm, especially in autumn and winter. She didn’t realize she’d leaned closer to Lord Baelish, her body searching for warmth. Her fingers were cold. She brushed his cloak with the back of her hand. It was soft. She didn’t remember what was like to wear one of those. </p><p>She turned her head to him, confused when he stopped in front of the stairs. Gently he removed his arm from hers and placed the candelabra on the floor. His cloak brushed against the floor as he did so. When he straightened his back again he flashed her a soft smile and brought his hands to the silver mockingbird pin clasped on his cloak collar. He unclasped it and then he unfastened the ties without averting his eyes from her. Under his cloak he was wearing a dark green tunic. It matched his gray green eyes, she noticed.</p><p>She also noticed it when a faint shiver ran down his body. A tunic wasn’t enough to keep him warm, and Sansa felt guilty.</p><p>“Here,” he murmured, wrapping the cloak around her shoulders.</p><p>It was heavier than any piece of clothing Sansa had worn in the past few years, but its weight didn’t bother her. Something tugged at her chest at his unexpected act of kindness, and it mixed with her feeling of guilt.</p><p>In the orphanage girls were usually kind to each other. They knew they were in the same boat and that being mean would only make things harder. But only Jeyne had really cared for her and it had only happened after they got to know each other. Sansa hadn’t expected a stranger to offer her his cloak and expose himself to the cold. It was clear he was cold. </p><p>“That’s better, isn’t it?” he whispered, and his hands moved to the collar to fasten the cloak. He didn’t touch her throat or her chin, but Sansa shivered all the same, and it wasn’t from the cold, because she wasn’t cold anymore.</p><p>To her surprise, he also clasped the mockingbird pin on the collar of the cloak. It was an ornamental item, so she’d thought he would stuff it into his tunic pocket. It looked like an exclusive design and she thought it was probably expensive. </p><p>Lord Baelish paused, and Sansa knew he was gauging her reaction. She wanted to say something; she wanted to thank him, but no words came. </p><p>If he was disappointed he didn’t show it. He lowered his left arm to his side and offered her his right arm.</p><p>“May I escort you to your room, my lady?”</p><p>The tone in which he’d said those words, my lady, was different than Brendan’s and Tom’s. Sansa couldn’t pinpoint what was the difference but she knew there was one. It was more a perception than anything else. She also discovered that she liked the way those words sounded on his lips better.  </p><p>Where were those thoughts coming from? Why did she think of his voice? </p><p>She took his arm and licked her lips, trying to find her voice again.</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>They began climbing the stairs.</p><p>“I’ll have a maid prepare a bath for you,” Lord Baelish broke the silence once more. He didn’t turn to look at her. The candelabra cast shadows on the banister. “I have bought some clothes for you,” he went on. “I didn’t know your size, so I bought different sizes.” This time, he glanced at her. A small smile tugged at his lips. “I think you’ll have enough clothes until the taylor comes. I’ll send him a letter in the morning. Be sure to tell him all the dresses and other pieces of clothing you’d like to have once he takes your measurements.” He paused for a moment. His voice sounded softer when he asked: “Did you used to go horse riding when you lived in Winterfell?</p><p>Sansa was still assimilating that he’d bought her clothes and planned to order some more, and his question caught her off guard. The first months she’d lived in the orphanage she often thought of Winterfell, but as the months passed by she tried not to remember her home. The memories hurt.</p><p>She breathed in and forced herself to focus on the question Lord Baelish had asked her.</p><p>“Yes. My father taught me when I was four years old.” Memories of his father filled her mind, and her first instinct was to shut them off.</p><p>She felt Lord Baelish’s arm pressing lightly against hers for a moment as if he wanted to comfort her. Or was it her imagination? His voice pulled her from her reverie. </p><p>“Then I think you might need some riding suits too. That's it, if you want to go horse riding again.”</p><p>Did she want to? A feeling of longing overpowered her, taking her by surprise. Yes, she realized. She missed petting them and giving them treats, and speaking to them. She’d always felt like they could understand what she said. </p><p>“I’d like to,” she said, trying not to sound eager. “If it’s alright.” She was supposed to be his employee, not his guest. </p><p>Lord Baelish’s smile broadened.</p><p>“It’s more than alright, Sansa.”</p><p>He used a different tone to say her name, and the way he said it made her feel warm inside, like a hug from a loved one. She didn't know if it was proper that he called her by her name. Employers called their governesses by their names, and although Sansa wasn't a governess, she thought both jobs had things in common. She didn't know anyone who had hired a woman to translate books. </p><p>“Today it’s late, but tomorrow I can accompany you to the stables, so you can meet the horses,” he continued, oblivious of her thoughts.</p><p>“Thank you. That… that would be wonderful.”</p><p>“Then it’s settled.” He sounded very pleased. </p><p>She glanced at him and saw a smug expression on his face.</p><p>They stopped in front of a door.</p><p>“This is your bedroom. A maid can help you unpack, if you wish,” he said, his expression kind.</p><p>“Oh, no, it’s not necessary. I… I haven’t brought many things.”</p><p>She was relieved when he just nodded, his expression still kind. She didn’t want him to pity her.</p><p>“A maid will come when your bath is ready, my lady,” he said. “The clothes I ordered are in your wardrobe. Take all the time you need to try them on and pick out the one you’ll be wearing tonight. I’ll be in the dining room in the meantime. You can join me when you’re ready, and we can have dinner together, if you like.”</p><p>He probably wanted to negotiate the job offer. Cersei’s words entered her mind, and Sansa felt a knot in her stomach. No, the Queen was lying; she had said that to scare her. This was exactly what Cersei wanted; she didn’t want Sansa to be happy in Harrenhal. But Sansa wasn’t going to let her win. Cersei couldn’t hurt her any more.</p><p>She nodded at him and grabbed the door knob, expecting him to turn away, but Lord Baelish stood there as if wanting to add something else. Sansa lowered her arm and waited. Some seconds passed and then, he shook his head and gave her a small smile.</p><p>“I’ll see you later,” he said.</p><p>He was already walking away when Sansa remembered she was still wearing his cloak.</p><p>"Wait."</p><p>Lord Baelish stopped and turned to her. He didn't look annoyed. His expression was patient as he waited for her to speak, but there was also a hint of curiosity on his face.</p><p>"I should give your cloak back to you," she told him.</p><p>He smiled then.</p><p>"Keep it. It suits you," he said.</p><p>"But your mockingbird pin…"</p><p>He tilted his head.</p><p>"I know it's in good hands." And without waiting for her to reply, he turned away and left. </p><p>Sansa watched him as he walked away. His footsteps were slow; he didn’t seem in a hurry even though he was cold.</p><p>Her right hand moved to touch his mockingbird pin. Surprisingly, the metal wasn't cold.</p><p>It was warm as if it had just been under the sunlight.</p><p>*</p><p>Sansa stared at her reflection in the mirror, feeling as if she was looking at another woman. She’d been so used to wearing plain dresses and having frizzy hair, that now she almost couldn’t recognize herself. Ann, the maid that had prepared her bath had also made a hair mask for her using milk, almond oil, sage, rose petals, thyme and honey. After Sansa got out of the bathtub and dressed, Ann had asked her to sit by the fireplace so her hair dried faster. She’d told Sansa that using a curling iron would damage her hair, so the maid had combed it with her fingers. </p><p>“It will take awhile for my hair to dry naturally,” Sansa had said, thinking of Lord Baelish. He was waiting for her in the dining room.</p><p>Ann seemed to read her thoughts.</p><p>“Oh, don’t worry, dear, Lord Baelish won’t mind waiting. When he asked me to prepare your bath he asked me to remind you to take as much time as you needed to get ready.”</p><p>The maid’s words had put Sansa at ease.</p><p>Now her hair was silky and bright, and she was wearing a dark green dress with patterned cuffs.</p><p>She was surprised to see how many dresses Lord Baelish had bought for her. She’d tried all of them on, expecting many of them to be loose (the meals at the orphanage weren’t high in calories). However, almost all of the dresses had fit her.</p><p>They were beautiful. Lord Baelish had a good aesthetic sense. Every dress looked like a work of art. These were the kinds of dresses a queen would wear, and Sansa feared she would ruin them. She didn’t want to think of how much money he’d spent on them. </p><p>Green was her favorite color but there was another reason why she’d chosen the dark green dress. It was the same color as his tunic, and as soon as her eyes had fallen upon the dress, she’d known this would be the one she’d be wearing tonight. She didn’t know why she’d felt the need to match his style, but she hadn’t given it a second thought.</p><p>Lord Baelish had also bought a pair of shoes for each dress, even though all the dresses were so long that they touched the floor. Sansa had picked out the dark green shoes regardless. She thought it was the least she could do after he had taken the trouble to offer her a vast wardrobe.</p><p>The shoes had some glitter on the toe cap. She put them on and then she pulled her dress up to her ankles and looked at herself in the mirror once more. She saw her own smile spreading across her face. Her face looked a bit tired; she hadn’t slept very well the past few days, trying to imagine how her life in Harrenhal would be. However, looking at her reflection in the mirror, she felt beautiful for the first time in several years, and a flicker of hope filled her chest. Hope that Cersei’s words weren’t true. Hope that Lord Baelish really wanted to help her.</p><p>Before leaving, she paced around the room, her bedroom. The shoes sparkled in the dim light, and it was a beautiful sight. </p><p>For the first time in several years, Sansa felt that everything would be alright.</p><p>*</p><p>Lord Baelish was waiting for her in the dining room, just like he’d said he would. He was sitting at the table, near the fireplace. He was reading a newspaper, and he seemed so engrossed that he didn’t hear her entering the room.</p><p>Sansa stood beside the door and stared at the flames, large and orangish. The sound was relaxing, like listening to the rain while you stayed indoors. </p><p>She took a deep breath and approached the table. The carpet muffled her footsteps. This room was much warmer than the corridors and the hall so she wasn’t surprised that Lord Baelish wasn’t wearing a cloak. There was one hung on the coat stand in a corner. She supposed Lord Baelish would put it on to go to his bedroom. Sansa didn’t need a cloak in this room either. </p><p>Lord Baelish lifted his head when she was only a few inches away from the table. His lips parted and a dazed expression flashed across his eyes.</p><p>“My lady.” His voice sounded breathless. “You look stunning.”</p><p>Sansa averted her gaze and shifted her weight, blushing.</p><p>“Thank you, Lord Baelish.”</p><p>He opened his mouth as if he were about to say something but closed it again. Instead, he rose to his feet and came closer. Sansa shivered when he stood before her.</p><p>“May I?” he asked, gesturing at her cloak.</p><p>She nodded.</p><p>Lord Baelish removed her cloak, his movements unhurried. Sansa looked down at the floor, wondering what he thought about her choice. Was he pleased that she’d chosen the dark green dress or did he think it was a bold move? Perhaps he thought it was just a coincidence. Honestly, right now Sansa almost preferred him to think it was a coincidence. She hadn’t realized that she might be giving him the wrong signals, that he might think this was an attempt at flirting. Cersei’s words came back to her mind, and Sansa stepped back involuntarily.</p><p>“Sansa?” She could hear the confusion in his voice.</p><p>She raised her head, nervous and mortified.</p><p>Control yourself. He hasn’t tried anything; he’s been respectful so far, she told herself. She couldn’t offend him. She couldn’t make him think this had been a mistake, that he should have never offered her a job. </p><p>She swallowed and met his gaze. Lord Baelish was still holding her cloak. He’d knitted his brows, but she realized it wasn’t a look of disapproval. There was a hint of concern in his eyes.   </p><p>“I’m sorry, Lord Baelish. I didn’t mean to pull away.” She lowered her head and clasped her hands tightly. She hoped her apology was enough and he didn’t ask any questions. </p><p>Unfortunately, he did.</p><p>“Has…?” He swallowed thickly and began again: “Has the director of the orphanage or anyone else ever forced themselves on you?”</p><p>“No!” she hurried to say. The director of the orphanage was a cold hearted man, and Sansa was certain he was incapable of empathy, but thankfully he had never done something so despicable. </p><p>Lord Baelish breathed out, and his shoulders relaxed. He tilted his head and studied her face.</p><p>“Then, what’s wrong? You can trust me, sweetling.”</p><p>Sweetling? No one had ever called her by this nickname before, and it made her feel comforted and safe for a moment. Then, she felt nervous again. Should she tell him the truth? Cersei had given him this castle. He was probably grateful. Saying something negative about the Queen could ruin the professional relationship she wanted to build with him. </p><p>Sensing her hesitation, Lord Baelish stepped forward. He placed a hand on her shoulder, a gentle touch that didn’t make her recoil. Sansa stared into his eyes and didn’t see anger or impatience. His eyes were kind. </p><p>“You’re safe here. I promise you, Sansa,” he said softly.</p><p>She looked down at the floor and took a deep breath. She wanted to trust him. After all, he’d offered her a job knowing that the Stark family had lost their respectability long ago.</p><p>“It’s something Cersei said this morning,” she confessed in a low voice.</p><p>She saw his body tense out of the corner of her eye.</p><p>“What did she say?” he asked. His voice sounded cold, and she knew he was trying to hide his anger.</p><p>She replied without averting her eyes from the floor:</p><p>“She said your job offer was just an excuse to make me come here.” Her heart quickened. “The Queen said…”</p><p>“Yes?” He encouraged her. She felt his hand squeeze her shoulder gently.</p><p>Sansa swallowed. The blood rushed to her face as she went on:</p><p>“The Queen said that you wanted me to be your mistress, that I’d have to agree to your conditions if I wanted to stay here.” She thought it was best not to tell him that Cersei had also told her that he’d had a pistol duel because he loved Catelyn and had gotten the job at the Natural Science Institute because he’d been Lysa’s lover. </p><p>She heard him curse under his breath. Her blush deepened. He was angry. She’d ruined the dinner.</p><p>“Sansa, look at me, please.” Lord Baelish’s voice sounded surprisingly gentle now.</p><p>She closed her eyes for a moment before lifting her chin and meeting his gaze. </p><p>The anger seemed to have left his face, or he was doing a very good job of masking it. Now, he just looked sad.</p><p>“Sansa, you shouldn’t believe anything Cersei says. She loves spreading her venom and bringing people to their knees. She said those things so you’d be afraid of me. But it’s all lies, I swear it. I’d never force you to do anything you don’t want. I really want you to translate some books for me.” Something flickered in his eyes, and he added: “I’m not going to lie: I’m happy to help Catelyn’s daughter, but there are no ulterior motives behind my offer.”</p><p>Sansa let out her breath. A small smile tugged at her lips.</p><p>“Thank you,” she murmured.</p><p>He flashed her a smile, although the sadness still lingered in his eyes. He moved away from her.</p><p>“Let’s not think of The Queen anymore. Much brighter thoughts should occupy our minds. You are finally here and that’s a reason to celebrate. I’m going to hang up your cloak, and then we’re going to enjoy a delicious dinner and toast to the future, alright?”</p><p>Her smile widened.</p><p>“Alright,” she said.</p><p>She watched him walk over to the coat stand. She felt as if a heavy weight had just been lifted up from her shoulders. The Queen’s words had been really haunting her. Enough thinking of her, she reminded herself, the smile still on her face.</p><p>When Lord Baelish finished hanging up her cloak, he turned away, and their eyes met once more. Now she couldn’t read him. Was he still thinking of Cersei even though he’d asked her not to think of The Queen anymore? They exchanged another smile, and for a moment, she felt as if he were also trying to read her. Then, he looked away and approached the table again.</p><p>“My lady,” he said, pulling out a chair for her.</p><p>“Thank you, Lord Baelish.”</p><p>He opened his mouth but closed it right away, like he’d done before when he’d complimented her on her appearance and she’d thanked him. Sansa wondered what he’d wanted to say and why he’d held back on both occasions.</p><p>Her questions left her mind when he rang a bell on the wall. Only a few minutes had passed when the door opened and several servants entered the dining room, carrying the trays of food. A delicious smell filled the air, and Sansa’s stomach rumbled. She glanced at Lord Baelish, hoping he hadn’t heard it. He smiled at her, and this time it looked like a boyish grin. Sansa could tell he was hoping she’d like the food. It made something melt inside her. </p><p>He was doing everything in his power to make her feel comfortable in Harrenhal. He wanted her to like this place. She swallowed, trying to get rid of the knot in her throat and returned his smile. </p><p>Perhaps one day she could love this castle and its surroundings, she thought as she thanked the servants. They bowed their heads and left the room, and she and Lord Baelish were left alone again.</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They didn’t speak much during the dinner. Sansa tried not to look eager as she ate, but it was hard. It had been so long since the last time she’d fed herself properly. The butter potatoes were tender and creamy, and melted in her mouth, and the capon, stuffed with bacon, mushrooms, hard boiled eggs and truffle was delicious.</p><p>Both Lord Baelish and Sansa drank water. The servants hadn’t brought any bottle of wine, and she wondered if Lord Baelish didn’t drink alcohol.</p><p>In Winterfell, her father always drank a glass of red wine at lunch and dinner, and when they had guests, the men also drank wine, and after dinner, when the women withdrew to the drawing room, the men always stayed in the dining room to play cards, smoke and have a glass of whiskey or rum.</p><p>Perhaps Lord Baelish didn’t like alcohol. Judging by what she knew about him, he was very different from other men. Even the way he ate was different: he didn’t eat with his hands; he used his silverware and took small bites. <i>This is the way a bird would eat if they turned into a human</i>. Sansa smiled at the thought, and at that very moment, Lord Baelish looked at her as if he’d read her thought. Sansa was still smiling and saw the corners of his mouth turn up too, but he didn’t say anything.</p><p>Once their dishes were empty, Sansa’s eyes fell upon the porcelain platter with floral designs, or rather, her eyes fell upon the small sponge cakes sitting on the platter. They were covered with powdered sugar and filled with what looked like orange jam or peach jam. </p><p>Lord Baelish followed the direction of her gaze and gave her a small smile.</p><p>"I don't know what's your favorite dessert, my lady. Actually, I don't even know if you like pastries at all, so I told the cook to bake these sponge cakes. They're filled with handmade bitter orange jam. We buy them from Dorne every summer."</p><p>Sansa barely remembered the taste of oranges. There weren't orange trees in Winterfell, they only grew in the capital and some cities from the South. It was said that the best oranges both sweet and bitter were grown in Dorne. In fact, the orange seeds used to grow orange trees in King’s Landing were from Dorne.</p><p>When Sansa was a kid, her father used to travel to King's Landing to visit King Robert, and he always returned with fruits, spices and wooden toys. Her father and Robert had been fostered by Jon Arryn in The Vale. Back then, when neither of them were of age, Robert already asked Ned for advice: Her father was always the most sensible of them. Once Robert became King, he still asked for Ned's advice, even though his Small Council was a group of experts in different fields: politics, diplomacy, law, finances, defense…</p><p>“My comment has made you sad,” Lord Baelish’s voice brought her out of her reverie. </p><p>She looked at him. Something flickered in his eyes, but it was subtle. She offered him a small smile.</p><p>“I was thinking of my father. He used to bring us oranges from his travels to the capital.”</p><p>“I see.” His tone sounded cautious. He was probably trying to determine whether she wanted to talk about her father. Ned had been declared a traitor, and his death not only had damaged his good name. It had possibly ruined Sansa’s chances of making a good match. </p><p>Sansa realized that Lord Baelish was wondering if she blamed her father. If she hated him.</p><p>“I don’t blame my father,” she said. She knew he wasn’t a traitor, but when she was about to say it, she paused. Speaking those words aloud might be dangerous. If Lord Baelish told the authorities, she would be accused of treason. </p><p>She let out a soft gasp when Lord Baelish leaned forward and placed his hand over hers.</p><p>“I don’t think your father was a traitor,” he said softly.</p><p>Don’t trust him, a voice said in her mind. It was best not to tempt her luck.</p><p>“Thank you, Lord Baelish,” she just said. He might choose to believe that she agreed with him, or on the contrary, that she was convinced that her father had been a traitor, and she was just being kind.</p><p>If he was disappointed, he didn’t show it. Instead, he grabbed the platter and turned back to her.</p><p>“You still haven’t told me if you like pastries, my lady.”</p><p>She smiled, relieved that he didn’t push. Maybe in the future, if he showed her that he could be trusted, she opened up. For now, it was best to be cautious. </p><p>She took a sponge cake.</p><p>“I love pastries, my lord. And I bet I’ll love this. I love citrus flavors. Lemon cakes are my favorite dessert.”</p><p>“Oh, If I had known, I’d have told the cook to make lemon cakes for tonight.” His eyebrows rose lightly, and he looked amused.</p><p>“It’s alright.” A soft laughter escaped her lips. He looked very handsome when he was relaxed and smiling. The thought entered her mind, startling her. The blood rushed to her cheeks. She brought the sponge cake to her mouth, trying to hide her blush and took a bite. </p><p>She closed her eyes when the strong taste of the orange jam filled her mouth. It was like chewing a slice of orange with the peel, and she almost felt as if she’d traveled back in time, only that this time, the sorrow didn’t come over her. She felt happy, excited, lively.</p><p>When she opened her eyes, Lord Baelish was looking at her with an expression she couldn’t decipher. He almost looked dazed. But why would the sight of her make him daze? Especially when she was doing something as common as eating.  </p><p>“You have powdered sugar on your lips, my lady,” he whispered, lifting a hand.</p><p>Sansa didn’t move. Something fluttered in her chest when Lord Baelish brushed his index finger over her upper lip, and then over her lower lip, slowly. She knew he was breaking the rules of decorum. Yet she didn’t stop him.</p><p>“That’s better,” he whispered, pulling back.</p><p>Sansa remained still, the sponge cake in her right hand. Lord Baelish turned to his glass of water and took a sip. She realized he hadn’t taken a sponge cake yet.</p><p>“Aren’t you going to have a sponge cake, Lord Baelish?”</p><p>He gave her a small smile.</p><p>“I confess I don’t have a sweet tooth, but today, I’ll make an exception.”</p><p>To her surprise, he used a fork and a knife to take a sponge cake.</p><p>The look of surprise on her face must be evident, because he explained:</p><p>“I don’t like to get my hands dirty.”</p><p>His tone had sounded friendly, but strangely, Sansa shuddered.</p><p>She remembered they hadn’t talked about his job offer yet. She waited until both of them had finished their sponge cakes to bring this subject up:</p><p>“Lord Baelish, I know it’s late, but if we might discuss the details of the job…”</p><p>“Of course. I’ll happily hear your request, my lady. For my part I only have two.”</p><p>She sat up straighter as she waited for him to continue.</p><p>“I must ask you not to reveal any information about the books you translate,” he went on. “I’d like the content to stay between us.”  </p><p>“Of course.” She breathed out. She’d already assumed that she couldn’t talk about the books she was going to translate. </p><p>But he still had another request.</p><p>“Since tonight, Harrenhal is your home, Sansa. You can come and go as you please… save for two places. I don’t know how much you know of the History of Harrenhal,” he paused waiting for her to answer.</p><p>“I know there was a fire when Harren Hoare was the king,” she began hesitantly. Lord Baelish nodded, encouraging her to continue: “I know the Tower of Ghost wasn’t reconstructed and is still bricked up.”</p><p>“Exactly. It was my decision not to demolish the wall. I believe sometimes it’s best to leave things as they are. Open sealed doors may let the ghosts in.”</p><p>She was almost certain that he’d used a metaphor, that he wasn’t talking about real ghosts, unlike Tom and Brendan, but she couldn’t help but shiver all the same, and he noticed.</p><p>“Are you alright, my lady?”</p><p>“Yes.” She stirred in her seat and managed to give him a smile. She didn’t want him to suspect that Tom and Brendan had told her about the strange noises and the rumors. “I’m sorry. It’s just that what happened in Harrenhal is terrible.”</p><p>“Yes, it’s terrible. However, it happened a long time ago. Any bad energies that there might have must have disappeared by now.”</p><p>His words surprised her. Judging by what Tom and Brendan had told her, he didn’t seem to believe in the paranormal.</p><p>“I hope the past doesn’t stop you from accepting the job,” Lord Baelish continued. “I assure you, my lady. You’re safe here.”</p><p>“It doesn’t,” she hurried to reply. Some noises and rumors wouldn’t ruin her chances to have a roof over her head.  “What was your other request, my lord?</p><p>“It’s about the Tower of Dread.”</p><p>Sansa knew this hadn’t been its original name. Its original name was lost in the burning of the castle.</p><p>“I’m afraid my reasons for not wanting you to access this tower aren’t exciting at all,” he said in an amused tone. “It’s my workplace. You probably know I worked at the National Science Institute.”</p><p>She nodded.</p><p>“Well, I no longer work there, but I was allowed to keep my notebooks.” He lowered his voice as he leaned forward. “Can you keep a secret, sweetling?”</p><p>His tone of voice sent a thrill of excitement up her spine.</p><p>“Yes,” she whispered. She leaned forward too, unconsciously.</p><p>His mouth twitched.</p><p>“I’m still working on my investigations. Extra-officially, of course.” He pulled back and rested an arm at the back of his chair.</p><p>Her heart quickened upon hearing that. She wanted to ask him what his investigations consisted of. She wanted to ask him why he’d left the National Science Institute. She wanted him to show her his notebooks.</p><p>But she held back. If he wanted her to know, he would be telling her right now. Instead, he was silent, though there was a pleased look on his face. He knew he’d piqued her curiosity. He knew she wanted to know more.</p><p>“Let’s talk about your requests,” he said.</p><p>Sansa tried to hide her disappointment. </p><p>“I don’t have any requests,” she confessed. “I just want to know the conditions.”</p><p>“You can choose your work schedule,” he said. “I just want you to hand in every new page you translate to me the same day you finish it. No matter if it’s just one page. I promise I’ll give it back to you as soon as I read it.” He smiled.</p><p>“Alright.” She returned his smile. </p><p>“And as for the salary, I’ve thought about 1000 coins per year, but it’s open to negotiation.”</p><p>Sansa’s eyes widened. A governess earned about 25 coins per year. She hadn’t expected to save 1000 coins not even after working for several decades.</p><p>“That’s… that’s so generous, Lord Baelish.”</p><p>“You are one of the few people who can translate the northern language,” he said. “It’s only fair you’re paid accordingly.”</p><p>“Thank you.”</p><p>His eyes lit up.</p><p>“It’s very pleasing to see how well this negotiation has gone.”</p><p>She was also pleased. It had gone surprisingly smoothly. She hadn’t expected him to offer her miserable job conditions, but his offer had exceeded her expectations. His two requests looked very small in comparison. </p><p>“Tomorrow I’ll escort you to the library and show you the books,” he spoke again. “I shall give you a tour around the castle too, if you like. But tonight, I’m afraid I’m quite tired. I should retire to my bedroom. I’m sorry.”</p><p>“Oh, no please, Lord Baelish, don’t apologize. I understand. I’m tired too.” Well, she wasn’t tired now, the rush of adrenaline from today’s events still ran through her veins, but she was certain she’d feel very tired as soon as her head touched the pillow.</p><p>“Then, I’ll escort you to your bedroom, my lady.” He rose from his seat.</p><p>Sansa followed him. Neither of them spoke as they made their way to her bedroom. This was the first night she’d spend in the castle. She was going to work for Lord Baelish. He’d been the only one who’d reached out to her, the only one who had offered her a way to thrive.</p><p>“Thank you again, for everything,” she said once they stood in front of the door.</p><p>He took her hand and brought it to his lips. His stubble tickled her skin when he placed a kiss on her knuckles.</p><p>“Thank you for accepting my job offer,” he said, letting go of her hand. “I’m sure your arrival will be beneficial for both of us.”</p><p>She smiled and nodded. Yes, they’d help each other.</p><p>She wasn’t alone any more.</p><p>*</p><p>Lord Baelish waited until she stepped into her bedroom before walking away. However, he passed by the door to his room. He chose the staircase that led to the Tower of Dread and climbed the stairs.</p><p>The door was pale blue. He reached into his pocket and pulled out an iron key. This was the only key that opened the door to this tower. He did all the maintenance and cleaning tasks in this tower. It was tedious, but he wasn’t going to risk his notebook ending up in other’s hands. And of course, he couldn’t let anyone see the machine he was creating, a replica of the one he’d used at the Natural Science Institute.</p><p>He’d known, when he’d accepted the job that the Queen had offered him, that the chances of success were slim. Others had defied the Seven Gods trying to  bring back the dead using electricity and they’d failed. </p><p>But the Queen was an ambitious woman, and she knew that Lord Baelish was an ambitious man.</p><p>She didn’t want to bring back the dead. Her plan was possibly more dangerous.</p><p>The creatures she had had in mind when she’d contacted Lord Baelish had pale blue skin and came from the Far North of Westeros, and they were said to be able to reanimate the dead. It was also said that they’d been created by the Children of the Forest, but at some point, they have been unable to control their creation.</p><p>The White Walkers. </p><p>Cersei had sent an expedition beyond the Wall to capture a White Walker. She wanted to know if it was possible to manipulate their minds, to turn them into beings without conscience nor will. </p><p>She wanted to create an invincible army.</p><p>Unfortunately for her, she’d failed.</p><p>The expedition had captured a White Walker, but the creature had died before they went back to the Institute. Lord Baelish and other scientists had studied the body, trying to find out where their ability to reanimate the dead came from, but the studies of DNA were still in its early phases. Lord Baelish had suggested reanimating the creature, even though none of them knew the aftermath of it. Cersei had agreed without hesitation. </p><p>It had been Lord Baelish who had built the machine, and who had reanimated the White Walker. He’d spent many days and nights reading books on galvanic reanimation.</p><p>However, as soon as the creature opened their eyes, Cersei dismissed him. She’d told him that his services had been very helpful but that she didn’t need him any longer. She’d give him Harrenhal and a good amount of money, and in return, he’d had to give her his word that he wouldn’t talk about his job at the Institute and that he wouldn’t continue his investigations. </p><p>It was rather amusing to see how willing the Queen had been to believe in pretty lies.</p><p>Of course he was going to continue his investigations. He’d been able to reanimate a White Walker. What else might he be able to accomplish if he kept working on that field of study? He didn’t know what had happened afterwards. He didn’t know if the White Walker was still “alive” and trapped somewhere in the Institute.</p><p>But there were other White Walkers out there, and he just needed one.</p><p>He planned to keep Sansa out of his investigations, at least for now. Admittedly, offering her to stay in Harrenhal had been a risky move, but he hadn’t been able to help himself. The books were an excuse. He’d suspected that she wouldn’t agree to live in the castle without giving something in return. He’d also suspected that the Queen wouldn’t object, that she’d love the idea that Sansa could ruin her reputation even more by living with an unmarried man. </p><p>Well, he was going to let Cersei think that she called the shots. For now, Sansa was under his wing, and he was waiting for the right timing to travel beyond the Wall. </p><p>He was a patient man, after all.</p>
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